


For When Tomorrow Comes

by ImhereImQuire



Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 05:44:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/635709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImhereImQuire/pseuds/ImhereImQuire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean Claude cannot keep Jason forever, and Jason knows it.</p><p>A letter from Jason to Jean Claude.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For When Tomorrow Comes

Dear Jean Claude.  
  
When I dropped out of college a couple of years ago people asked me if I thought I could do this forever, and I used to flash a smile and say ‘sure I can’. People thought I was being young and stupid… but I'd found 'the life'. The sex and glamour and all round naughty fun that I could really devote my life to. But what I really wanted to devote my life to was you.  
  
If I had to name any moment that changed my life it would be the moment when I first met you, hands down. You would have thought it would be running into Raina, right? But no, somehow everything in my life manages to come back to you.  
  
I don't remember exactly when I decided that I really did want to spend my life being with you... being yours, your pomme de sang, your companion… but it was fast. Scarily fast. I fell and I fell hard. The weird thing was that it wasn't even especially a sexual thing...well anymore than anything is a sexual thing with being me, and you being you. Really I was just... in awe of you.  
  
If I had to describe how I felt about you back then I’d say it was a post-school boy crush, sort of. You know, the one where you suck up sickeningly to the teacher, make excuses to hang around after class, try to come off as sophisticated while being pathetically impressed and agreeing with everything they say and do, taking it as a sign of greatness and a sign of their style/charm/wisdom/worldliness?  
  
The only trouble is that I don't think that ever quite went away. Normally people can only stay on the pedestal for so long before the reality sets in and the bloom falls off the rose but it didn’t happen with you. The more I learnt about you, the more I’ve gotten to know you the more I’ve grown to respect you, love you, aspire to be like you.  
  
I started reading to impress you... not that I don't like reading, but I’d never hung out with anyone else who did and didn't want to look nerdy so I’d always kept it quiet before that. But that soon changed when I realised it was my chance to impress you. When it was just the two of us together talking you’d make those allusions to obscure quotes or thrown in an unexpected literary reference and the next day I'd be looking it up, making sure that sometime that week I either left a copy of one of whatever author it was' book lying around, or used another of their lines.  
  
At first you looked surprised though I think you knew what was going on, then as time went on you started taking an interest in books I chose myself (which you’d seemed to always have read somehow).  
  
Like I said, relationships like that, they're not about sex. It wasn’t really about wanting to get you into bed. It was about having someone way up high on a pedestal actually seeing me down on the ground, in amongst all the common crowd, talking to me as though I were smart, treating me as though I were something special, listening to me as though I had something important to say. It’s always been about attention and adoration and respect… that all came first so it was a while before I realised that I wanted something else, and by that time it was too late…  
  
Anita finally gave in to you and I was good with that. I was expecting it, it had always been on the cards, she was there first, so I wasn’t surprised, just sort of...disappointed.  
  
Until you marked Richard. Don’t get me wrong I love my Ulfric like…well… an Ulfric. It’s a wolf thing so I know you’ll understand I’m not jealous. I’d hate for you to think that I was jealous…but… I'd always hoped that one day that would be me. I’d always thought of it in my mind as being the next step, the gold star you get if I was a really good pomme de sang, if I worked really hard to be whatever wanted you me to be.  
  
Shit, that doesn’t right. I make it sound as though you tried to mould me but it's not like that. I tried to mould me. All it took was for you to show the slightest preference and I’d be on it. But then all of a sudden there was Richard and suddenly I was your 'Pomme' and Richard was 'Mon loup'. Great. Yeah. But the three of you make it all work. I get that. Really, I do understand that it was for the best but where did that leave me?  
  
The gold star on the horizon was gone.  
  
And now I'm realising exactly what that means. Everyone was right I can't do this forever but I'm so scared of the day when my shelf life is up. I'm going to start getting older, and nothing can change that. The worst thing is it won't have to be like old, just...not younger. In a few years I’ll be as old as you were when you were turned, and that’s when it will start to fall apart because I’ll no longer be your toy boy.  
  
I won’t be able to get away with serving as the cute little thing on your arm anymore. In a couple of years my life will start to fall apart, and there'll be someone else there, another hot nineteen year old and then... What will I be? What the hell do I do?  
  
I’m looking at my life and realising that I have built everything on being your pet. Your Pomme De Sang. Don’t get me wrong I’ve enjoyed it, it was and will always be an honour but it can't last. It won’t be over today or tomorrow but it's going to happen eventually and when it does I don't know what I'll do.  
  
Not that I'm afraid of being homeless and broke. You aren’t like that, I would hate for you to think that I think you that cruel. You’d make me the manager of one of your ventures, you’d take care of me. I know you wouldn't just fling me out like an old toy, I know you better than that but there'll come a time when you’re going to need someone younger and fresher and tastier to wake up to. I understand that, I’m not angry. It’s just the way it goes when one person is immortal and the other isn’t. You’ll need a new Pomme and then… I don’t know what.  
  
It scares me. Not because there was always that hope that I was going to be young and sexy forever. It was never about that. It’s not about long my life will be, it’s that it can’t be lived to it’s end with you, not in that way.  
  
I probably sound spoilt. I don’t mean to and please do not ever think that I’m anything but grateful to you for everything you’ve done for me. I know you didn't promise me anything, and that wasn't why I was with you, not like one of those parasitic freaks who just want their taste of immorality.  
  
It’s not the thought of getting old and dying that scares me. Maybe it should be, but it isn’t ... it's all boiling down to the fact that I know I can't keep you. And you can't keep me. I'm afraid to not because I'm going to die one day, but because one day there’ll come a time when I'm going to see a look on your face… that 'it's time to move on' look. And it's going to kill me.  
  
Will you filter me out, gradually start spending less time with me until one day you stop seeing me at all or will you make it clean, try sending me away? Will there come a night after feeding when I’m lay there with him playing with my hair that I hear the words ‘Jason… we need to talk’ and suddenly it’s over?  
  
I know you’re encouraging me to date because you don’t want to have to do this to me, but it won’t work. I can never get too serious with anyone because I know that after so long there comes a point when I have to choose between them and you and no one can compare to you so what’s the use? As long as I have time left where I can be with you I’ll take it because even five minutes with you is worth a lifetime with anyone else.  
  
I don’t want to go on without you. I don’t want to see rejection in your eyes. I’ve been thinking on this for a while now and I’ve come to my decision, I don’t want it to end like that.  
  
For so long I’ve been praying that something will happen to me before then, that I’ll get caught in the crossfire of district or were politics, hit by a car, something, anything so that when I die I would have spent my entire life with you.  
  
Which is what this letter is all about. I wanted to put this all down on paper because I don’t have the guts to say this to you, I know that I’ll start making jokes or you’ll cut me off and tell me I’m being ridiculous and don’t know what I’m saying but I hope after reading this you’ll know that I understand exactly what I’m asking now.  
  
When the time comes and you know that it’s over between us I want you to do something for me. Spend the night with me. I don’t care what we do, if you take me to the theatre, out for dinner or keep me in bed giving me that one fantastic, earth shattering night of pleasure or just holding me in your embrace (although I think I’d prefer the sex) but give me that time, just the two of us then when it gets to dawn I want you to pull me close then drain me until there’s nothing left.  
  
My last request is that you be the last thing I see before I close my eyes for the last time. There comes a time when you have to decide where your priorities are and, Jean Claude, I can’t live without you. I would rather spend the entire of my life with you as yours than live the extra couple of days it would take for me to work my way up to ending it myself. I want to go happy rather than have another couple of days in the worst possible misery.  
  
In all this time I have never made any real demands of you, Jean Claude you know that, but I am begging you to do this for me when the time comes. This should my choice to make and if you love me anywhere near as much as I love you then you will do it for me and not have me suffer. You have always protected me from harm when I’ve needed you, and when the time comes with this just know I am trusting you to protect me.  
  
Until then don’t mention this letter. Think about it as... a will. Don't think about it until you need to, Just put it away and forget about it until the time comes. We both now how hard this conversation would be, how painful and yeah... I’d rather just spend the time together happy.  
  
Love always, Jason.  
  
P.S If you feel like giving me that toe curling, body shaking, arduer inspired night of orgasmic, mind-blowing bliss before then I really, really, really won’t mind, I promise.


End file.
